underneath the wintry sky,
merciful sight.
will it ever burn that bright again?
sometimes I wonder
if the white landfill
fooled my heart
or if bliss actually lingered around.

guess She covered my eyes
because I recall
he used to gently glide, between the clouds.
no falling pieces, no frowns.
recall it was warm
at sixty under zero by default.

but back in town
with liquified sorrows
and wild flames
he looses control, calls me by names.
wise owl smashed to the ground,
hitting its head like a clown.
it resonates of bitterness and death -
never thought a mirror
would be such a mess.

relucntantly I wait,
lovely snow come recoat the graves -
of 99 cent dreams
and drained bottles of pain.